


you.

by goldenwingssharpsword



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Human, Cliche as Hell, Dean is an insensitive jerk sometimes, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mental Illness, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, things get weird later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:17:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3503105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenwingssharpsword/pseuds/goldenwingssharpsword
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recovering from another depressive episode, Sam is stuck in a rut. Every day he comes home from the same job to the same empty apartment and moves through his life in a daze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And then he meets Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for: mental illness, suicidal thoughts, and alcohol abuse. hopefully i haven't forgotten any others, please let me know if i have.
> 
> first fanfic (but not first fictional work) in 10+ years! oh god, please be gentle.

There were few things that Sam hated more than the rain. Gasping, he pulled the rickety door of the bookstore shut and winced as water ran off his soaking hair straight into his eyes. Why hadn’t he moved to Southern California yet? Oh, that’s right. He was broke. His coworker Sasha shot him a sympathetic grin at his entrance. “Great day, isn’t it?” 

“Peachy,” he muttered, shoving his broken umbrella in the stand next to the door. He’d throw it out later. Maybe. If he remembered.

“Well, it hasn’t been too busy in here today. I think the rain is putting a lot of people off,” Sasha said.

“Lucky them,” sighed Sam. “Okay, let me just go back and peel this useless hoodie off myself before I sort through the new shipments, okay?” 

“Sure thing!” Sam watched Sasha’s purple head of hair disappear below the counter as he made his way to the dark back room of the bookstore. He couldn’t believe it was only Monday. _Just get through today_ , he told himself. _You can do this. You promised._ And just like every other day, Sam steeled himself for another day where the minutes dragged until he could go home to the silence of his small apartment. Alone.

 

****

 

“Sam? Are you all right?” Sam started, remembering where he was. The bar was packed and _loud,_ and he wondered, not for the first time, why the hell he agreed to let himself be dragged here. Across the small table sat his friend Castiel, blue eyes narrowed in concern.

“Yeah. Sorry Cas, just zoned out for a second there. What were you saying?” He forced what he hoped was an interested expression on his face, but from the further narrowing of Castiel’s eyes he knew he hadn’t been successful. 

“I was telling you about the work function that my supervisor is insisting I attend. I’ve managed to get myself out of them before, as you know, but Balthazar is making it clear that my presence is required this time.” Castiel looked so dejected that Sam stifled a laugh. It seemed like his boss was throwing some kind of huge soiree every month, and every month Castiel would drag him out to some awful dive bar and drink an entire liquor store’s worth of gin while freaking out about being forced to socialize with his coworkers and their clients. Not only that, but Castiel always seemed completely unaffected by the booze which baffled Sam to no end.

“So what are you going to do, then? Can’t you just tell him you’ve got something else to do that night?” Castiel shook his head vehemently.

“That was the first thing I tried. No, Sam. There’s no getting out of it this time. Our most important client is going to be in attendance and if I miss this I’m going to have to find another job. Balthazar said as much.”

Sam took a sip of his beer. “I’m sorry, man. I can’t say I’ve ever been in that position before but I guess you’re just going to have to bite the bullet and get it over with.” 

Castiel sighed, finishing off his gin. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and stood, preparing to go to the bar to get another round. “I know, Sam. I think I just needed to complain about it for awhile. Thank you. Do you want another Lagunitas?”

Sam smiled. “It’s cool, Cas. And yes please, I’ll get the one after, okay?” Castiel shot him a small smile and went over to the bar, sandwiching in between a drunk girl in a cowboy hat and a short man who looked relieved for the intrusion. Sam hid his smile in his beer, draining the  glass in a gulp. So what if he didn’t have much of a career, or a girlfriend, or even health insurance that allowed him to go to an urgent care when he felt like shit instead of straight to the emergency room. He had a great friend, a roof over his head, and he had booze. That was more than most people had, right?

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fumbled around for a minute before blinking at the screen. A new text had arrived.

_Sam r u doing ok?? Havent heard from u in like a week. Please text or call me man, im worried._

And just like that, his good mood disappeared. “Sam?” Castiel had returned with their drinks and hovered over the table awkwardly, looking worried. When Sam didn’t respond, Castiel set their drinks on the table and sat down. “Another text from Dean?” Silence.  “Sam. You know you need to actually speak more than a few words to him sometime soon. I know things are still strained between you both but this isn’t good for either of you.”

Sam grabbed his beer and took several desperate gulps out of it. “I’m fine, Cas. I know, okay? Please, I don’t want to talk about it tonight. Let’s just have a night out, all right?” Castiel looked like he was going to say something, but at the most powerful level of Puppy Eyes Sam possessed, he gave up, leveling Sam with a “this-isn’t-over” look. “When is this work thing, anyway?”

“Next weekend,” answered Castiel, wisely ignoring Sam’s clumsy attempt at a change of subject. “I should probably go shopping tomorrow, actually. I don’t think I have a suitable tie.” Sam snorted. Castiel wore a different tie every day. He didn’t think he’d ever seen him without one. How could he possibly need any more?

“Good luck. I hate shopping.” Castiel smiled wryly and Sam relaxed back into his chair, mood lifting again. Everything would be fine. 

_Just get through today. You can do this. You promised._

 


	2. two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Manpain for Sam :(

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

_“I don’t get it, Sam. It’s been three years now. Why are you like this?” Great, this again. Dean never knew when to leave well enough alone._

_“I don’t know, Dean! You think I want to be like this? Nobody_ **_wants_ ** _to feel like shit all the time, okay? Don’t you think if it was as easy as ‘just getting over it’ I would’ve done it already?” yelled Sam, his eyes tearing up. He looked at the ceiling and blinked hard, angry at his body’s response to more of Dean’s bullshit._

_“She wouldn’t want you to be like this, Sam! She’d want you to move on, go find some hot chick and have a bunch of freakishly tall kids or something! I just thought…” Dean stopped, looking frustrated._

_“You thought what, Dean?”_

_“I thought...“_

_“Spit it the fuck out, Dean, I don’t have all day,” snapped Sam. His patience was wearing thin. How many times could they have this same argument?_

_“…I just thought you’d be stronger,” finished Dean, lamely. Sam saw red._

_“Get the fuck out.” His voice was low and deadlier than Dean had ever heard it._

_“Look Sammy, I didn’t mean-“_

_“GET THE FUCK OUT, DEAN. NOW.”_

_Sam’s only hint that Dean had left was the slamming of his apartment’s front door. He saw nothing through the blur of tears._

***

Sam jerked awake to the sound of rain battering against his bedroom window. Looks like the nightmares were back again. He hated that dream and resented his subconscious for replaying the last time he’d seen Dean in lurid detail instead of letting him sleep. Sighing, he rubbed his hand across his face tiredly and stared out the window at the rain illuminated by a dim streetlight. Of course it was raining on his day off. Of course.

Glancing at his phone, he realized he only had about fifteen minutes before his alarm went off so figured he might as well get up. Even on the days he wasn’t working he tried to keep to a schedule, otherwise it was all too easy to lounge around in a stupor, the whole day gone before he knew it. Waking up as early as possible helped, if only a little. 

Padding into the living room, he switched on the kitchen light and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He filled it with water, then took it to the collection of pill bottles on his counter. Three blue bottles from Rite Aid pharmacy, along with a few vitamins. Down from four blue bottles a year ago. He’d come so far.

Sam took his pills, then settled in a cross-legged position on the living room carpet. Breathing deeply, he worked on clearing his mind and letting the tension held in his stiff muscles go. He touched his index and thumb fingers together just barely, and took in a deep breath for a count of five, held it for a count of five, then released it for a count of five. Then he gently touched his thumbs to his middle fingers. _“Like you’re holding the wings of a butterfly,”_ the doctor had told him after the accident. _“Try this when you’re feeling anxious. It helps.”_

And on that dark, rainy morning, Sam found a little peace.

****

“SAM!” A bright orange blur slammed into him a few days later and grabbed him in a fierce hug. He grunted, tensing up for a moment before he realized who the orange blur was.

“Charlie?! You’re back!” His friend finally let him go and grinned up at him sunnily. “God, has it really been two years?”

“I know! I wasn’t expecting to be gone that long either, but then there was this girl and… well, you know.” She winked at him cheekily. Sam didn’t know, but he could guess.

“Well hey, I’m glad you’re back! I don’t get off work for another twenty minutes but do you want to do something after if you don’t have any plans?”

“Yes! Oh god, so much has happened since I saw you last! Oh! Was my hair even like this the last time I saw you? I can’t even remember! Well, anyway, I chopped it all off again because the humidity in they Keys was just _the worst_ …”

“Charlie” interrupted Sam, as Anna, his boss came around the corner. Sam threw her an apologetic glance.

“Sorry, Anna. I’ll get back to work.”

“Don’t worry about it, you go on. I can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation anyway so twenty minutes with Sasha isn’t going to kill me. Go!” She shooed him out, laughing.

“Okay, okay! Wait here Charlie, I’ve just got to grab my jacket and we can get out of here,” Sam said, pretending not to notice the appraising glance Charlie gave Anna, who blushed and ducked to the back of the store. “And _no hitting on my boss!_ ”

“Alright, alright. Spoilsport. Hurry up! I need to get my drink on!”

 

****

“Okay, I know you said you had to ‘get your drink on’ but does it have to be _here_?” Sam and Charlie stood in front of a slightly run-down white building. “_ED TAVERN,” the sign proclaimed. Sam didn’t think he’d ever seen the sign with all of its letters intact, as it had read “RED T_VER_” the first time he came here with Dean, many years ago.

“What? What’s wrong with this place? I haven’t been here in like three years!” protested Charlie, shoving a rapidly-frizzing strand of red hair behind her ear as she angled her umbrella for better protection against the rain. 

“Yeah, and during your three years away you forgot how shitty this place is. There was a literally a giant hole in the side of it at one point. Come on, isn’t there anywhere else you want to go?”

“Oh come on Sam, it’s raining and we’re already here. Let’s just go in for one, if it sucks that much we can leave,” pleaded Charlie, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the entrance.

“Fine. But don’t blame me when your beer tastes like soap or there’s a chip in your glass,” Sam said, letting himself be dragged into the bar by the tiny redhead. Once inside, they collapsed their umbrellas and left them by the door. The bar was thankfully mostly empty, only a few people on barstools who looked like they’d been there all day and a couple at a table in the back. The jukebox was playing a Tom Petty song, in contrast to the last time he was here when it had been playing earsplitting death metal until Dean took it over and forced it to play ten AC/DC songs in a row. A giant of a man, even bigger than Sam himself prevented Dean from playing an eleventh. 

They paid for their drinks and sat down. Sam traced a happy face in condensation on the outside of his glass and smiled as Charlie launched into a tale of the girl she met while working in the Florida Keys. Charlie was one of those people who expressed happiness with her whole body, thought Sam as she gestured wildly to illustrate the story of the time she and Glinda had almost been caught fooling around in Glinda’s office. He hoped that maybe he could be that happy someday. Granted, he was far better than he was this time last year, but some days he felt like he’d never made any progress at all.

“And then later we realized that I’d left my bra on the boat! Can you believe it? … oh, shit.” Charlie’s voice dropped to a whisper. Sam looked up.

“What?”

“Uh, okay, don’t freak out because she hasn’t seen you yet and she’s with someone but uh… Ruby just walked in.”

Sam froze. _Oh no._ Ruby, the girl he had gone out with years ago, before Jess and The Accident turned him into _this_. Their relationship, if it could be called that, burned bright and ended messily with her in the back of a cop car and Sam with a black eye. _Please, please don’t let her see me._

“Well! Look who it is!” came a voice that would always set Sam’s hair on end. 

“Fuck. Sorry Sam,” hissed Charlie. 

Index and thumb fingers on both hands barely touching. Breathe in for a count of five. Hold for a count of five. Release.

_Please don't let today get any worse._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The relaxation technique that Sam uses is called the [Five-Finger QiGong Technique](http://anxietyslayer.podbean.com/e/5-finger-qigong-anxiety-relief-meditation/). I've found it pretty useful, maybe some of you will too. :)


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn for the better.

Sam got through it, although he immediately crawled into bed as soon as he got home. Ruby thankfully hadn’t said much besides introducing them to her new boyfriend (some creep called Azazel of all things with eyes that reminded Sam of a snake), but still the shock of seeing her made him sick.

His phone buzzed. A text, again.

_Sam. Please just let me know youre ok._

Sam rolled his eyes and texted back a reply, then shoved his phone under a mass of pillows and tried to sleep.

> _Still fine, Dean._

 

****

 

Sam was eating breakfast at his tiny kitchen table Thursday morning when his phone rang. Castiel’s name was on the display, which was strange since he usually texted instead of calling. Concerned, Sam slid his finger over the green circle and answered the call. “Cas! Are you all right? You never call.”

“Sam!” Cas sounded frantic. Sam could almost picture him, tie askew, trench coat rumpled, raking his free hand through his hair as he spoke. The last time Cas had called him sounding like this his sister had been in a car accident and was unconscious. She was fine now, but it had been a tense few days before she woke and Sam hoped whatever Cas was calling about wasn’t as serious as friends or relatives in the hospital again.

“Sam, I need a favor.”

“What? Of course, man, anything. Is everyone okay though?”

“Yes, yes, everyone is fine. Do you remember the work function I told you about last weekend? The one I couldn't get out of because Balthazar will most likely fire me?”

Sam frowned, dumping the rest of his now-cold coffee into the sink and leaning against the counter as he remembered Castiel’s continual struggle with Balthazar. “Uh, yeah. What’s up, did you manage to get out of it after all?”

Castiel gave a short, bitter laugh. “No. Quite the opposite, I'm afraid. I’m expected to attend _and_ bring someone. Anna is on a date Saturday night so she cannot accompany me and Uriel refuses to even be in the same room as that ‘godless heathen’ Balthazar.” Sam smothered a laugh. Uriel was really… something else. “So I’m asking you to please, _please_ come with me?”

Sam blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Huh. Well, I’m not sure if my suit still fits-“

“I have an account at Taylor’s. If you require a suit or any alterations, go there and I will take care of the costs. Please, Sam. You know how much I despise these functions. Having you there will greatly ease my suffering.” Sam laughed.

“Alright, Cas, I’ll do it for you. Saturday at 7:30, right?”

“That is correct. I will pick you up at your apartment at six. Thank you so much, Sam. Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you in return.”

“I’m good, but thanks, Cas. See you Saturday.” Castiel said goodbye and hung up. Sam stood, still leaning against the kitchen counter. Well. Looks like his previous plan of drinking a bottle of wine and watching Battlestar Galactica on Netflix was going to have to wait until Sunday.  

 

****

 

Luckily, Sam’s suit fit him just fine which was a relief as he hated getting measured for suit alterations. He looked at himself in the mirror that Saturday evening and smiled. Not bad. His hair was a little longer than he would’ve liked it, but not so long that he felt like he needed to run out and get a haircut. He still looked tired, though, with faint circles under his eyes. The nightmares had been back again, this time of the accident. He could still hear Jess’ screams and the crunch of the metal as a truck plowed into the passenger side of his car. Sam shuddered. He hadn’t been able to drive since then. He hadn’t been able to even consider looking for a new car to replace the totaled one yet, something that Dean was initially understanding of, but then grew less so as time went on.

He shook his head, as if to banish the negative thoughts. Cas needed him, and he wasn’t going to spend the evening locked inside his own head. He straightened his tie, determined to have fun tonight even if it killed him.

 

****

 

It almost did kill him, as it turned out.

“Holy shit, are you choking?” Sam glared at the moron dumb enough to ask a person with their hands around their own throat such a stupid question and nodded his head as sarcastically as he could given the circumstances. 

“Right, stupid me. Okay, Gigantor, hold on!” The man disappeared behind Sam and wrapped his arms around his midsection, bringing his clasped hands in and up, sharply. A few thrusts and the offending canapé flew out of Sam’s mouth as he gasped for air, coughing.

The man came around him and patted Sam on the shoulder. “Jeez. Glad I stayed away from those shrimp, I knew they looked weird. You okay, there? Sorry about that.”

Sam, who had been doubled over during his recovery straightened, and stood up. Worriedly, he looked around. The groups of people who had been staring turned back around, and Sam noticed, troublingly, that Castiel was nowhere to be seen. Turning back to the man who had saved him from dying at Balthazar’s party, he was startled to notice how short he was. 

“Wow, um, yeah. Thank you. The shrimp was fine before it tried to kill me, though.”

The man grinned and stuck his hand out for Sam to shake. “Name’s Gabriel. And thanks, but I think I’ll continue to stay away from it. Seafood and I don’t exactly get along.”

Sam took it, noticing Gabriel’s firm grip. His hand was warm. “I’m Sam.”

“Hello, Sam! So, what brings you to this deathtrap?” Gabriel’s eyes, which Sam noticed were an unusual shade of gold, sparkled as he grinned. He felt strangely at ease.

“My friend dragged me here. Apparently he couldn’t get out of it and had to bring someone so…” He gestured to himself. “I was the lucky victim. I’m not sure where he is though.”

“Dark-haired guy in a blue suit, looks like he got dressed in a wind tunnel? He ran past me as I was coming out of the bathroom just before I rescued you. Sounded like an important phone call.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, that’s him. I guess he’ll be back soon, then. So, what do you do, if it’s all right to ask?”

“Ah, you know, this and that. I do some things for the family business and in exchange they leave me mostly alone. Every now and then though, I get forced to go to something like this which is usually _so boring_ but this time I get to talk to a handsome moose like you!” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows ridiculously and Sam snorted.

“Well, that’s something I’ve never been called before.”

“What? I mean it in a good way, kiddo! You’re gigantic and very… moose-like,” Gabriel said, grinning cheesily. Sam couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh, you- ah, there he is.” Sam spotted Castiel across the room. Cas stopped, a startled expression crossing his face when he saw Sam, then he rushed over to them. “Gabriel, this is my friend Cas-“

“Hello Mr. Milton, I do hope you’re having a good night,” said Castiel, shaking Gabriel’s hand and looking flustered. “Sam, we must go. My neighbor called, Jellybean’s sick. I’ve already made my excuses to Balthazar.” Jellybean was Castiel’s cat, and had to be the most pampered feline in existence. Castiel wouldn’t even leave her alone for more than an hour, leaving her with his neighbor Madeline who loved cats and was happy to take care of her when Castiel was at work. Jellybean also hated anyone who wasn’t Madeline or Castiel, and enjoyed expressing this hatred with her claws, much to Sam’s chagrin the first and only time he tried to pet her.

“Er, oh god. Okay then. It was nice to meet you, Gabriel.” Gabriel smiled and waved at them both as Castiel grabbed Sam’s arm and they rushed out of the building.

As they huddled into Castiel’s car, Sam reflected that almost choking to death and sick cats aside, his night actually hadn’t been so bad.


End file.
